


elias the elf, what's your favorite color?

by waywardrenegade



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Carolina Hurricanes, Christmas Fluff, M/M, inspired by elf (kinda? idk just to be safe), obv i stole the title bc i'm nothing if not unoriginal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrenegade/pseuds/waywardrenegade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where Jeff is a harried, last minute shopper and Elias is the bored retail employee who kindasortamaybe has a thing for Jeff's ridiculous dimples</p>
            </blockquote>





	elias the elf, what's your favorite color?

**Author's Note:**

> just a bit of fluff since I've failed miserably at my proposed 12 Days of Christmas fic challenge. as always, comments/kudos/puppies are always welcomed and appreciated. :))
> 
> disclaimer: I don't know Jeff or Elias, whether Elias actually wears plaid flannels, or why you'd want to read this if you know and/or are one of the people mentioned. sorry.

Jeff’s so stressed about picking out the exact right gift for everyone on his list and it’s two days before Christmas and _oh my god how is he supposed to make it out of this store not wearing handcuffs_ that he doesn’t notice the elf following him around.

Admittedly, Elias _has_ gotten very good at this, at messing with unsuspecting customers because it’s just fun, but normally they notice by now. They have a good laugh, wish each other a happy holiday, and that’s that.

Clearly, this guy, who doesn’t look much older than Elias himself, has much more important things on his mind than being tailed by a dude wearing pointy shoes with bells on them.

When the guy stacks yet another 400 thread count sheet set onto the three already balanced precariously in his arms, Elias can’t help his intake of breath as they tumble down.

The guy lets out a huffy sound, kicks one of the set across the floor, then finally sees Elias. He freezes, foot still outstretched.

“Um, _fuck_. Would you believe me if I said it was kinda just an involuntary reaction?” he asks as he crouches down to gather the rest. His face is beet red, and he has dimples like two parentheses framing a sheepish grin.

Elias just laughs, loud and amused, as he says back, “Nah, but I won’t tell if you don’t” with a quick wink. He leaves the guy momentarily to grab him a basket from the stack near the customer service desk and passes it to him wordlessly.

The guy flushes again, a bright pink that stains his cheeks, the length of his neck, and disappears into his shirt collar. Elias would bet the blush extends down his chest too. He wouldn’t mind finding out.

“Thanks for that. I’m, uh, Jeff?” the guy says like a question as he smiles up at Elias. His eyes crinkle in the corners in a way that makes Elias’ heartbeat speed up a bit.

Elias crosses his arms over the glittery fabric of his red and green coat as he replies, “Elias.” He tries to focus on the scratchy material biting into his arms rather than how much he wants to bite down on Jeff’s full lips.

“Elias the elf, eh. S’kinda cute really. So, Elias, how does one remain so cool working retail around Christmas? Because I’m dying.” Jeff’s trying, although not very hard, to keep his gaze on Elias’ face, but it’s difficult when he can see cords of lean muscle even through the kitschy getup.

Elias wiggles his right foot in response, the little bells tinkling cheerfully. When Jeff’s face scrunches up in confusion he explains, “Not really cool if you know what I mean, man. I work in Santa’s Workshop in case you haven’t noticed.”

Jeff’s answering giggle, there’s really no other word for it, is a thing to behold. Jeff’s seriously adorable, and Elias usually reserves that world for puppies and little kids who play hockey. It’s probably why the next thing he says is, “Santa probably won’t notice if I leave a little early, so you wanna pay for those then you can tell me if you’ve been a good or bad boy this year?”

He walks away after, intending to put his costume in his locker and clock out, so he doesn’t know how Jeff reacts. It’s not his smoothest pickup line ever, but something Elias saw in Jeff’s dark eyes tells him it really wouldn’t matter what he said.

Elias meticulously folds his elf clothes in the employee restroom, changes back into his skinny jeans and blue plaid flannel, and takes his time lacing up his worn leather boots. He tries not to think about why exactly he’s stalling, maybe afraid Jeff will bolt or, scarier still, he might stay. Elias doesn’t want to get his hopes up, so he convinces himself Jeff's long gone and starts wondering what he can pull together for dinner when he gets home.

He’s debating whether or not he can truly call a peanut butter and Frito sandwich dinner for the third night in a row when a low whistle breaks through the sounds of traffic and excited shoppers.

“Thought maybe you’d changed your mind and were halfway home by now,” a voice calls, amused and teasing.

Elias thinks that Jeff, leaning against the building with a hand on his hip and a cocky grin plastered on his boyish face, is probably the best last minute gift he could’ve asked for.


End file.
